


Criminal Tastes

by kmo



Category: Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego?
Genre: Black Comedy, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 14:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmo/pseuds/kmo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ivy starts acting mysterious, Zack and Carmen team up to discover her secret. Hilarity ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Devil's Food

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday fic for the fabulous aptasi! Thanks for the great prompt.

Something was up with Ivy.

Zack first noticed it at Versailles. He stood next to his sister, dejected, having watched Carmen Sandiego jet-pack off into the sunset for what must have been the umpteenth time. He slammed his fist onto the keyboard of an 18th century harpsichord, nearly sending the docent into an epileptic fit. "I can't believe she got away again, sis."

Ivy clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't take it so hard, little bro. There's always next crime."

_Don't take it so hard? Who are you and what have you done with my sister?_ "Well, at least we can enjoy Paris while we're here."

"You can stick around if you want, but I'm kind of looking forward to going home. Think I'll turn in early tonight."

"Suit yourself, I guess." Zack watched his sister step into the blue lights of the C-5 corridor. As she left, he thought he saw the tiniest of smiles ghost across her face. Yup, something was definitely up with Ivy.

* * *

Over the next couple of months, Zack watched his sister closely. Ivy started leaving work early and coming home late. When he asked where she was going and if he could come, she only told him "Out" and "No" in that order. His first thought was that she must have a new boyfriend. So, he asked her about it one night after work.

"So, who's the new guy?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your new boyfriend. The one you're always sneaking off to see. What's so wrong with him that you won't bring him around? Does he have a mullet or something?" Zack joked.

His sister flushed red. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh. Girlfriend?" he asked cautiously.

She threw a couch pillow at him. "It's nothing! No one! Just mind your own business for once!"

"Okay, I'll leave it alone," Zack lied.

He did absolutely nothing of the kind. There was a mystery here and Zack was determined to get to the bottom of it. One evening after his sister left for one of her mysterious errands, he got in his car and tailed her to an industrial park on the far outskirts of town. It certainly didn't seem like the place one would go for a romantic rendezvous. That shot down his boyfriend theory in flames.

A few days later, he overheard her talking on her cell phone, placing an order for "a kilo of your best product." Zack panicked. It was worse than he thought. Could his sister be mixed up in something bad? Had the pressure of being assigned to Carmen's case driven her to taking drugs? But she had seemed so happy and relaxed lately. Normally after a failed attempt to capture Carmen, Ivy spent the rest of the week stomping around ACME, a scowl affixed to her face, barking at anyone who got in her way. Or sometimes she holed herself up in the Agency gym for hours and took her frustrations out on the heavy bag with her fists. After these past few capers, she just seemed to shrug it off. Very mellow and balanced about it all.

Okay, so maybe it really was drugs.

Zack made a mental note to check his sister's pockets for Canadian supergrass or magic mushrooms or whatever Ivy had been smoking lately to put her in such a good mood. Zack would have liked to believe it was something simple like meditation or yoga, but that didn't explain the strange phone calls or trips to the wrong side of the tracks. But staging some kind of intervention about it was easier said than done. His sister was stubborn even under the best of circumstances, there was no telling how defensive she would be about something as serious as this. And wouldn't you know, just when Zack thought he had finally found the perfect quiet moment to have this very difficult conversation, they were interrupted by the Chief.

"Hot tip, gumshoes! A break-in at the College of the Bahamas last night is now being attributed to none other than that infamous lady in red, Carmen Sandiego!" he proclaimed.

"What did she take?" Ivy asked.

"According to the local Bahamanian police- don't you love that word, Bahamanian? I could say it all day, Bahamanian, Bahamanian, Bahamanian…"

"Chief!"

"Where were we? According to the local cops, she didn't take anything of real value. Just a bunch of files from their personnel department."

Zack scratched his head. "Carmen's stolen some pretty random stuff in her time, but this might just be the strangest. Though I can't stay I'd ever turn down a trip to the Bahamas. Maybe we can get in a little surfing while we're there, eh, sis?"

"I..uh..I'm gonna have to sit this case out, little bro," his sister said regretfully.

"What? Since when do you pass up a chance at Carmen?"

Ivy's cheeks turned pink but she kept her voice steady. "I have something I need to do this week. You can ask the Chief- I already put in for the vacation days."

He turned to the Chief. "Is this true?"

If the Chief had shoulders, he would have shrugged. "Yup."

"And you won't even tell me what it's about?" Ivy shook her head. Zack balled his hands into his fists. "Fine. Don't get too jealous if I capture Carmen without you."

"Looks like you're going to need another partner for this one, hombre," the Chief prompted.

"I know exactly the girl for the job. Can't wait to see what Tatiana looks like in a bikini." Zack grinned wolfishly.

"Uh…are you sure it's a good idea to work a case with your girlfriend?" his sister asked.

"It's my case now, Ivy, and I'll work it whatever way I want to."


	2. Red Velvet

Twenty-four hours later, bound and tied to an office chair somewhere on the University of Iowa campus, Zack was forced to admit that his sister had been right. It was a terrible, _terrible_  idea to work a case with one's girlfriend, especially one as temperamental as Tatiana. He couldn't offer a suggestion without it sounding like criticism to her ears. And she wasn't anywhere near as thorough as Ivy about cross-checking clues, which lead them to miss one of Carmen's targets- the storeroom of a famous auction house- entirely.

It was only by sheer luck that they had found a ticket for a Hawkeyes versus Gophers football game at the scene of the crime. It must have fallen out of the pockets of one of Carmen's henchmen. The lack of formal clues had Zack a little worried; he had a sneaking suspicion that this particular crime spree, with its random unconnected elements, was not a game he had been "invited" to play. Sure enough, when the C-5 deposited them squarely behind the offices of the prestigious Iowa Writers' Workshop, they had been swarmed by Carmen's barrel-chested thugs. Without Ivy's martial arts prowess, they hadn't stood a chance against them. The blue-jumpsuited beefcakes had thrown Zack and Tatiana over their shoulders like sacks of potatoes and deposited them in this generic office building.

"Stop wriggling so much! You're only making the ropes tighter," he told his girlfriend in irritation.

Tatiana ignored him and continued to struggle. "If I can just get my hand free, I should be able to untie the rest of these knots."

"I keep telling you, they're too tight, Tatiana. What we really need is a pocket knife. Ivy always carries one. I wish she were here," he grumbled.

His girlfriend fumed. "I wish she were here, too, Zackary! Because maybe if she was, she would have been able to fight off Carmen's goons and we wouldn't be in such a pumpkin right now."

Zack sighed. "The correct expression is 'in a pickle.' You should brush up on your idioms."

"Well, I may not be the genius with languages you are, but at least I'm not the one who confused the clue about Christie's auction house with Agatha Christie and sent us to the wrong place!"

He found himself getting a little hot under the collar. "Hey, it was an honest mistake! Carmen didn't even give us a proper clue- we just heard one of her henchmen talking about going to Christie's. And with the papers she stole from the English department at that university in the Bahamas, it was a logical conclusion!" he insisted. "And it's not like you came up with something better."

Tatiana muttered something in Russian that loosely translated sounded a lot like "arrogant moron" and kept picking at her bonds. At last she managed to wrench one of her hands free and let out a cry of victory. Within a minute or two she had successfully freed herself from the chair.

"Guess they weren't so tight after all," Zack said sheepishly. "Now come over and untie me, sweetheart."

The Russian girl's eyes flashed. "You know, I really don't think so, Zack. Surely a big genius like you can figure out how to get out of this… _pickle_ ," she taunted.

Zack's mouth fell open, stunned. "But what about stopping Carmen?"

She shook her head. "I'm off the case. You're going to need to find a new partner.  _And_  a new girlfriend." Tatiana pressed a button on her communicator, opening up the C-5 corridor. " _Dosvedanya_ , Zackary."

First Ivy and now Tatiana. How had his day managed to deteriorate from bad to horrible so quickly? And how on earth was he going to catch Carmen without a partner? Zack hung his head and slumped against his bonds in self-pity.

A dark and velvety female voice jolted him out of his melancholy; "That was quite a scene."

He looked up to face his red-coated adversary. "Tell me about it. Come here to gloat, Carmen? Because I'm really not in the mood."

The thief took a step closer. "I'm actually more curious as to the whereabouts of your sister."

"Yeah, well, your guess is as good as mine. Ivy has some top secret plans this week that are apparently more important than chasing you."

He caught a suspicious flash in Carmen's one visible blue eye. "How…unusual."

Zack didn't know why he said what he did, but he felt like he needed to tell someone…an adult…about his sister's strange behavior. Carmen Sandiego would have to do. "Honestly, Carmen she's been acting really weird lately. Getting strange phone calls, staying out late. I think it's something bad."

And now he really did catch Carmen in a rare moment of surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. Drugs maybe? I don't know." He found himself getting angry, "It's your fault, you know."

"Excuse me?" the thief balked.

"She couldn't take the pressure anymore. Or the disappointment," Zack said bitterly. "I want to help her. I just don't know how."

Carmen's expression was utterly unreadable. Suddenly, she withdrew a Swiss Army knife from one of her voluminous coat pockets and walked toward him. For a moment, the boy's heart started pounding, even though he knew she was unlikely to hurt him. "Keep still, Zack," she commanded.

"What are you doing?" he gasped.

She sawed at the ropes with her knife and he could feel the bonds loosening, the blood returning to his fingertips with a painful tingle. "Getting you out of here. It seems there is a mystery afoot with your sister. Surely between the two of us, we should have no trouble solving it."

" _We_  Carmen? There is no we," he shook his head.

"I was and still  _am_ the greatest detective in the history of ACME, Zack. You doubt my abilities?" she asked sharply.

"Of course, not," he backpedaled. "But you're a criminal and I'm a detective…"

"We've worked together before haven't we? How is this any different?"

He was running out of plausible excuses. "Yeah, well, but…what about your latest caper for that matter? You're just going to abandon it mid…capering?"

Carmen let out a rare sigh. "Oh, well… _that_. It'll keep," she told him vaguely. She held out her black gloved hand. "Partners?"

He took it in his own and shook it. What choice did he have? "Partners. For now." She pulled him to his feet. "But there is one thing…"

"What?" the thief asked, a touch annoyed.

Zack gestured from the top of Carmen's scarlet fedora to the hem of her crimson trenchcoat. "You can't go around investigating my sister looking like  _that._  You'll attract too much attention. Don't you have anything a little more normal?"

Under the shadow of her fedora, he could have sworn she rolled her eyes. "Fine.  _Allons-y_."

* * *

A few hours later, Zack found himself standing next to Carmen outside his sister's bedroom door. "It's locked," he commented.

Carmen flashed him a grin. She removed a set of lockpicks from her handbag and laid out the tools one by one on the carpet. With the deft hand of an expert, she fit the tools to the lock and began to gently shift the tumblers. "It's been awhile since I've faced such a…mundane… deterrent, but I assure you I am up to the task."

He looked the thief over as she worked and chuckled. She had exchanged her brazen red trenchcoat and hat for a pastel blue cardigan and a pair of khakis. The sight of her dressed so blandly struck him as oddly comical.

"What's so funny?"

"I know I asked you to dress 'normal'…but geez, any more normal, Carmen, and someone's going to ask you to pick up the kids at soccer practice," he snickered. "I swear, I think my mom has that exact same sweater in mauve…"

"The shopping mall we visited outside Iowa City was not exactly what one would call fashion-forward," she said icily. With a flick of her wrist, Carmen tripped the lock and the door to Ivy's bedroom yawned open. "After you," she said with a flourish.

At first glance, Ivy's bedroom didn't look that different from your typical teenage girl's, aside from the fact it was actually clean. The bed was made, books and sports trophies stacked neatly on their shelves. Carmen raised an amused eyebrow at the poster of a shirtless hunk his sister had tacked to her wall but said nothing.

Zack settled himself in front of his sister's computer and turned it on. "Ivy's clever…she's gone to great lengths to hide what's going on with her. If there are clues here, they won't be out in the open. I'll see what's on her computer…you poke around or something," he suggested.

Carmen began by rummaging through his sister's closets. "Hmm. There seems to be some kind of white powder all over her clothes." Carmen touched the white dust with her fingers.

"What are you doing? It could be drugs! Or poison!"

The thief sighed. "I suppose I should err on the side of caution. I'll take a sample back to the lab for analysis."

Zack turned his attention back to the computer and found it was password protected. He tried several combinations, then a couple of hacks, to no avail. "Huh, that's odd. Ivy's not known for her computer abilities." A diagnostic revealed that she had recently installed a program called Cerberus. "Oh no," he moaned.

"What is it?"

"Ivy's got…well I can't tell you the specifics…but she's got the prototype of our new security software on here. It's supposed to be impossible to crack."

"Even for you?"

"Yeah." Zack shook his head. "Damn, she must have stolen it from R&D. It's not even out of beta yet. I really wouldn't have thought she had it in her"

Carmen had a strange appreciative look in her eye. "Me neither."

"This must really be bad."

"I am beginning to agree with you, Zack. Take the hard drive. If you can't crack it, maybe I can."

Zack was suspicious. "Take the hard drive  _where_  exactly?"

"Back to VILE of course," Carmen said casually.

Zack gulped. "VILE? There's like…fifty brawny dudes in there that'd like to break my legs."

"They'll be no leg breaking unless I give the order."

The boy blanched

Carmen sighed. "That was a joke, Zack."

* * *

After an elaborate negotiation in which he gave Carmen his ACME communicator in exchange Carmen's repeated assurance that nothing would happen to him at VILE and her promise not to use the new software against them, they were finally on their way. It was shaping up to be a long flight to wherever they were going and Carmen wasn't much of a conversationalist. Zack's thoughts turned first from Ivy and then to Tatiana, thickening the air with hurt and disappointment.

"What's wrong?" Carmen asked.

"I'm just worried about my sister. And upset about my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, now I guess."

"I promise you, Zack, we'll figure out what's wrong with Ivy." The thief paused thoughtfully, then said, "As to the latter, it never pays to mix business with pleasure. That's a lesson we all have to learn."

Something in her words sparked Zack's curiosity. "You sound like you speak from experience, Carmen."

"I refuse to answer the question for fear I may incriminate myself," the thief replied with a practiced air.

"Who was it? Someone from your detective days?"

"A more recent associate of mine. Let's leave it at that."

"Ugh, please tell me it wasn't Lee Jordan. Because I saw the way he was making googly eyes at Ivy…"

"No. And not for lack of trying on his part," Carmen said dryly.

"Hmm. Mason Dixon?"

"Heavens, no. You'll never guess, so why don't you just quit while you're ahead."

"Sara Bellum?" he ventured and prayed he was wrong.

"Oh, do give me a little credit!"

"Pearl Diver? 'Cause I've seen the way she fills out a swimsuit…pretty foxy. I mean, I'd hit that…"

Carmen removed a hand from the plane's controls and massaged her temples. "I sincerely did not need to know that particular piece of trivia, detective."

He wouldn't let it go; to see Carmen Sandiego squirm was a price above rubies. "Al Loy?"

"My private life is not an appropriate topic for discussion," she snapped back at him. "Now, Zack, if you do not stop I swear I will put this craft down right this moment and abandon you in some Saskatchewan cornfield and not feel in the least bit sorry about it," she said, the steely edge in her voice leaving no doubt that her threat was real.

"Fine. Sorry," he mumbled. He turned up the stereo and some beatnik jazz piano blared out from the speakers. "Ugh. What's this?"

"Thelonious Monk."

"Can I change the station?"

"No."


	3. Fruit

Zack entered the VILE cafeteria sheepishly, trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. Upon arriving at Carmen's secret hideout (which as far as Zack could tell, could be anywhere from the Canadian Maritimes to Iceland) the master thief had pleaded a massive migraine headache and had strongly suggested Zack get himself a bite to eat while she worked on Ivy's computer.  _Alone_ , she stressed. Which was really fine with Zack because like most sixteen year old boys, he was perpetually starving.

Wherever they were, it was time for breakfast, so he helped himself to some bacon and eggs. He chose an isolated table in the back corner and tried very hard to ignore the room of henchmen shooting daggers at him. For what was probably the fifth time that day, he really  _really_  missed Ivy.

"This seat taken?" a voice he recognized as belonging to Moe Skeeter asked.

"Uh, no? Maybe?" he said uncertainly.

"Relax, kid. The boss lady asked Hannah and me to keep an eye on you." He motioned over to henchwoman Hannah Lulu, who was heaping a plate full of muffins and croissants.

"Oh. That's nice of her, I guess." Zack had to admit, Carmen had chosen his handlers wisely; Moe and Hannah were perhaps the least intimidating VILE thugs he had ever met. "Carmen said she needed some 'alone time,' whatever that means."

Hannah joined them and gave Moe a knowing look. "Oh, she says that a lot, especially when we botch a heist. She probably just needs a hot bath…"

"Or a stiff drink. Or both," Moe added. He turned to Zack and said sympathetically, "That's a tough break about your sister. I always say, when the good ones go bad, it's scary."

"You think so?" Zack asked.

"You've met the woman who signs my paychecks, haven't you?" Moe remarked. Zack couldn't fault his logic there.

Hannah nodded and chimed in, "Lars Vegas used to be a minister before he became a crook."

"What?! You're kidding."

"Got a little hooked on the church bingo and soon found himself in debt to a loan shark up to his eyeballs. Sad story," Hannah explained.

"Wow," was all Zack could think of to say, struggling to picture Lars wearing a crisp minister's collar instead of his usual polyester suits.

Moe patted his arm, "So like I said, kid, when the good ones break bad, they  _really_  break."

"Yeah." Zack pushed away his half-eaten breakfast. Thinking about Ivy this way made him loose his appetite.

"Heard blondie broke up with you, too," Hannah remarked between mouthfuls of muffin. "Just not your day, is it?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he told her sharply. Ugh, who knew Moe and Hannah were such giant gossips? Suddenly, an idea came to him in a flash. "Hey, Carmen kinda mentioned something about a failed office romance. You guys wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Moe and Hannah shared a conspiratorial look with each other and drew their chairs closer to the table. "Well, everyone knows about  _that_ ," Hannah said.

"It was a bad business."

"The boss was  _heartbroken_."

"Totally heartbroken."

"But who was it?" Zack asked.

"Paige Turner," the two chorused somberly, shaking their heads.

"The Mark Twain impersonator?" Zack had only met the henchwoman once a few years ago during that literary themed heist of Carmen's. She hadn't had any association with VILE since as far as he knew. "She seems…sane." Moe and Hannah's eyes narrowed, offended. "Sane-er, I mean, than some of these other fruitcakes around here. Not everyone is as cool as you guys," Zack amended quickly and gave a silent prayer of thanks when the duo swallowed his blatant lie.

Hannah sniffed, "I never really understood what Carmen saw in her. Average-looking, and always nagging people about adopting the Oxford comma."

"Paige had this little Jane Austen getup with the bonnet and everything. Kinda cute…if you're into that sort of thing." Moe blushed.

Zack didn't know whether to be more disturbed that Carmen or Moe was into that sort of thing. Talk about trivia you didn't need to know. "So, what happened?"

Moe looked at him like he had suddenly lost about a hundred IQ points. "Isn't it obvious? Carmen doesn't like to be tied down. The boss can't commit to a time zone, much less another person."

Hannah shook her head and said, "I thought it was because Carmen never made it through all of  _Ulysses_."

Moe shrugged. "Anywho, they had a big fight and Paige left VILE and took a one of a kind Shakespeare folio along with her. No one has seen her or the manuscript since."

"If you ask me, Carmen was way more broken up about losing that folio than losing Paige," Hannah said. "And now VILE has a strict no-fraternization policy, which I really don't think is fair. Why should the rest of us have to suffer just because Carmen got dumped?" The henchwoman pouted.

"Hannah, if you have a complaint about the by-laws, I suggest you bring it up at the next company meeting instead of airing our dirty laundry in front of our guest," Carmen's voice cut in, velvety and low, the sound of which nearly made Hannah jump out of her seat.

"We have by-laws?" Moe wondered aloud.

"You have a Shakespeare folio?" Zack asked.

Carmen walked over with deadly feline grace, flanked by Sara Bellum. "Well, I don't have it anymore," she said, her tone so sour, it could have curdled milk. "Now, if you three are quite finished doing a post-mortem on my failed relationships, perhaps we could proceed on to more pressing matters. Sara has the results back from the lab."

"The white powder found on the girl's clothing contained trace amounts of sodium chloride, sodium bicarbonate, and sucrose." She eyed Moe and Hannah and said, "For those among us who have not passed high school chemistry, that would be table salt, baking soda, and sugar. Now, can I please get back to my machines? They're not happy if I'm not there," she said to Carmen impatiently.

"Thank you, Sara. You may go." Carmen waved her away.

Zack was puzzled. "So, it wasn't drugs after all."

"No, and there's more. I made it through ACME's firewall and was able to view your sister's internet history. It seems she has been uploading pictures and videos to a blog called  _The Bakery Detective_  on nearly a daily basis since January. I also have credit card receipts here for a standing mixer, a set of Le Creuset saucepans, and a kilo of some very expensive organic brown sugar milled in Brazil," the thief recited.

It suddenly dawned on him what Ivy had been up to and it was almost too impossible to believe. "Are you saying that my sister is hooked on  _baking_ , Carmen?"

"So it would appear."

Moe turned to Hannah and said in a loud whisper, "I don't get it, the redheaded girl is a cook for a drug cartel?" Hannah shrugged.

"That's a relief." Zack felt his cheeks color, embarrassed in hindsight at his assumptions. "Sorry to make you go to so much trouble."

"Detective, I think you've been watching too many cop shows," Carmen admonished.

"Oh, come on, you believed it, too, Carmen."

"I was merely investigating the possibility," the thief clarified.

"I just don't understand why she couldn't tell me about it. It's a strange hobby for Ivy, but it's not anything bad, you know? And we still don't know where she is today."

Carmen handed him a credit card statement with two items circled in red. "Your sister purchased an airline ticket to Denver on a flight that left yesterday afternoon. There is also a charge here for a hotel room in Aspen, Colorado for three nights."

"But, it's summer. Why would she go to a ski resort for vacation if there's no snow?" Hannah Lulu asked.

"I did a little research. Aspen is hosting the annual Food & Wine Classic this weekend. I'm willing to bet that if we go there, we'll find Ivy."

Zack's blue eyes widened. "You're coming, too?"

Carmen shook her head and said with a sly smile, "Your sister as the 'bakery detective?' Some things need to be seen to be believed, Zack."

 


	4. Pineapple Upside-Down

Ivy removed the baking pan from the oven and inhaled the moist air, sweet with the smell of roasted almonds. Before her lay neat rows of the small colored circles she would use to assemble her mini-masterpieces, the confectionary known as a French macaron. Not to be confused with a coconut macaroon, each macaron was a perfect miniature dessert for one, two heavenly bites of cake held together by a creamy filling. She turned to the cooled cakes and began topping half of them with creamy chocolate ganache. Ivy worked slowly and methodically, careful not to leave too much or too little filling, making sure each shell was flawlessly identical.

The detective had come to adore making macarons and not only for their crisp-chewy texture and airy sweetness. It had been a strange journey, she had to admit, remembering how she had reluctantly accompanied a friend to a cooking class at the extension school one day. She pouted and grumbled the entire way through it, but when they had at last removed the batch of pastries from the oven, every one of them a delicious reward, it had filled her with unexpected joy. So, she kept coming back week after week, practicing on her own in the test kitchen every moment she could spare. There was something oddly comforting about baking. Ivy learned that if she followed the recipe, measured exactly, and paid attention, her efforts would yield predictable results. Some might think that was boring, but there was always room for innovation, such as adding an infusion of Earl Grey to plain vanilla batter to give one batch a decidedly British flavor. It was, in a way, the perfect antidote to her job as an ACME detective. There, it seemed even if she followed all the rules, solved every clue, did everything right, she was always denied the ultimate prize. There was no recipe for catching Carmen Sandiego.

Thinking of Zack out there on Carmen's trail alone gave Ivy a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, one she recognized as guilt. She felt bad about keeping secrets from the brother who was her partner, and if she was completely honest, her closest friend. But she couldn't stand the thought that Zack and other agents might ridicule the hobby she had come to love. She was supposed to be the tough one, the girl who had once failed Home-Ec on purpose because she thought it was sexist. And what was more, she had come to take a kind of sneaky pleasure in her newfound alter ego. It was fun having a secret identity, even one as humdrum as The Bakery Detective.

The timer on the oven started beeping. Only two hours before the exposition opened for the day. Just enough time for one more batch.

* * *

Zack gazed out the window of Carmen's private aircraft as the unlikely duo once again flew over purple mountains' majesties and amber waves of grain to meet his sister in Aspen. Zack had spent most of the flight in silence, Carmen having presented him with the Scylla and Charybdis choice between listening to NPR or the BBC World Service for the next five hours. Not particularly interested in hearing about the minutiae of the impact of the Euro on Asian financial markets, his thoughts turned back to Ivy and Tatiana. He tried not to think too hard about how Ivy would react to the two of them gate-crashing her big moment at the expo. Probably about as well as Carmen usually took it when the two of them showed up "uninvited" to one of her special heists.

_Wait a second._ Moe and Hannah had given him a clue to Carmen's abandoned caper. He turned to the thief, "Carmen, all that stuff with the Bahamanian college, the Iowa Writers' program….you were looking for Paige weren't you?'

The woman next to him visibly winced. "I was trying to locate the folio. Logically, if I can find Paige, I can find the manuscript she stole from me," Carmen corrected.

"Did you have any luck?"

"I struck out at the College of the Bahamas and Christie's. She wasn't teaching there and she hadn't tried to have the manuscript authenticated. But I hit paydirt in Iowa. Like many frustrated literature critics, Paige has always longed to be a writer and the Iowa Writer's Workshop was her dream." Carmen smiked. "She wasn't accepted, but I was able to obtain a current address from her application."

"So, you know where to find her?" Carmen nodded but said nothing. "Oh come on, you're not even going to give me a little clue?" Zack wheedled.

"You are as bad as Hannah and Moe," the thief muttered then relented. "It seems Paige has returned to her favorite pastime and is earning her bread these days as the Belle of Amherst."

Zack mulled over this for awhile. It was harder to solve clues without being able to infoscan. "She's impersonating Emily Dickinson?"

"Correct." Carmen's voice took on a threatening edge, "But I warn you, if you use this information against me, you will force me to use my knowledge of Cerberus to compromise ACME's systems. This is personal, detective."

"So, what, you expect me to believe that folio of yours was obtained by legal means? It's not like someone just up and  _gave_  it to you," he said sarcastically.

"As a matter of fact,  _Love's Labour's Won_ was a gift from William Shakespeare himself. He was quite taken with me when we met in 1602," Carmen replied with a sweet smile.

Zack gasped. " _Love's Labour's Won_?! But that's one of his lost plays, a copy has never been found!" He could understand why Carmen would have been broken up over losing something so priceless. "What do you mean Shakespeare was 'taken' with you? Oh my god…his Dark Lady sonnets- that's you, isn't it?"

"I sincerely doubt I am the only mysterious dark haired woman Shakespeare ever met." Carmen chuckled softly. "But, I do sometimes have that affect on people."

Zack thought for a moment then said, "If you really want the folio back, maybe you should send Paige some chocolates or something. You know, play nice."

"Hardly."

He ventured shyly "Have you ever thought that maybe she just did this to get your attention? I mean, sometimes Tatiana picks a fight with me in a restaurant and stalks off just because she wants me to chase after her. And Paige hasn't sold the manuscript yet-it could be she is just trying to test you, to see how much you really like her."

"As opposed to her being a treacherous harpy that I should never have hired in the first place?" Carmen remarked tartly.

"Ex really got under your skin, didn't she?" The thief shot him a steely glare. "Ok, ok, Saskatchewan, cornfield, I remember."

Carmen let out a deep sigh. "I suggest we spend the rest of our journey in meditative silence, Zack. I will remind myself of the virtues of my policy of non-violence, while you contemplate the fine line between merely being inquisitive and being an outright pain in the ass."

* * *

Zack followed Carmen as she snaked her way through the massive crowd. It was a good thing he wasn't agoraphobic. And it was a marvel that Carmen could disguise herself with little more than a cardigan sweater and unflattering jeans. No one so much as gave her a second glance.

"The program says Ivy's booth is in section D-4….it should be right over there…" Carmen muttered.

Zack stood on his tiptoes to get a better view. "I see her!" There, wedged between a chef whipping up a soufflé and a woman hawking a boxed-set of Julia Child dvds was Ivy. "Whoa, seems like she's drawn quite a crowd."

"Let's proceed with caution, then. We don't want to make a scene."

Zack snorted. "You  _always_  want to make a scene."

"Not today, detective. Though I am prepared to make a daring improvised escape should the need arise," Carmen said with a confident gleam in her eye.

As they crept closer, Zack overheard his sister chatting up the onlookers. "That one there I call 'Kyoto.' It's  _matcha_  with a vanilla filling, inspired by a case my brother and I worked in Japan." The crowd oohed and ahhed.

A man pointed to a deep red macaron. "What's this one?"

"The 'Carmen Sandiego.' Red velvet cake with dark chocolate ganache." Ivy said, amused.

The gentlemen laughed. "How appropriate. It's so delicious it should be a crime!"

The crowd dispersed and Zack watched as a sleek blonde woman in a business suit stepped forward. "Detective Kaplan? I'm Rachel Westfall, a producer with the Food Channel and a big fan of your blog. I have to say, I'm intrigued…ever thought about television?"

Ivy turned scarlet. "You've got to be kidding."

"You're young, smart, got a great face for the cameras and the viewers would love your story. ACME dectective turned kitchen sleuth; it's got a lot of potential."

His sister swallowed. "Ms. Westfall, I'm a much better detective than I am a baker. This really is something I just do for fun."

"How about a cookbook?" The woman was relentless.

"Um…"

"Think it over. And if you change your mind, here's my card." The executive smiled and wandered off into the crowd, leaving Ivy stunned.

"I hope you're not seriously thinking of turning in your badge for a spatula, detective," Carmen remarked with a velvety chuckle.

Ivy's face turned the color of meringue. "What on earth are you doing here?" Her sharp eyes looked the thief up and down. "And why are you dressed like my mother?"

Zack stepped forward. "Relax, sis. Carmen's with me. We, uh, got a little worried about what you were up to and teamed up to investigate."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "So, you, what- hacked into my computer and followed me here?" Zack nodded; Carmen shrugged. "Aren't I allowed any privacy?"

"Of course you are. But you must admit, your behavior was beginning to look suspicious," Carmen said.

"What in the world did you think I was up to?"

Zack swallowed and braced himself for impact. "Uh, I dunno, drugs maybe?"

" _Drugs_?! Are you high?"

"No. And thankfully you aren't either. So, let's just forget about this," he said sheepishly and popped a macaron into his mouth. "Mmm, what's this one? Tastes like bacon. I love it."

Ivy managed a wry smile. "You should, I named it after you. Pancake batter with a candied bacon filling."

"Awesome. I taste delicious." Zack stuffed his mouth with another.

"Hey! Don't eat all my samples!"

Carmen said, eyes sparking, "You are a woman of hidden depths, Ivy. I must say, I am impressed. But I selfishly hope you'll be back on my case soon. It's not the same without you."

Ivy blushed and looked like she didn't know quite how to respond. "Thanks, I guess."

"You named a dessert after me? I'm flattered," the thief said in her most playful tone.

"Yeah, well, don't be." Ivy said with false bravado. Carmen shook her head and smiled, completely unfazed.

"Please don't leave me for the Food Channel, sis," Zack begged. "Carmen's right, it's not the same without you."

"Didn't work out between you and Tatiana, huh?"

"It was  _horrible_."

"Told ya so."

"Yeah, I know. Carmen, tell her how bad it was…" Zack turned to the woman next to him only to discover she had seemingly vanished into thin air. "She was here just a second ago, I can't believe it! How does she always do that?"

Ivy laughed, then abruptly stopped mid-giggle. "My Carmen Sandiego macarons- I had a whole sheet of them, they're gone!"

"Well, they did literally have her name on them, sis."

"Carmen is  _so_  going to pay for this," Ivy growled.

Zack shook his head. He wouldn't want to be Carmen after this, Ivy really knew how to hold a grudge. But he knew just the thing to cheer her up. "Well, now that she's not here, I've got the most amazing dirt on Carmen. Remember Paige Turner?" he began…

THE END

 


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